Sometimes You Look, But You Do Not See
by Elenhin
Summary: Sometimes you look, but you don't see every quality the first time, sometimes you might be happier if you look again. Movie inspired.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **A Scarlet Pimpernel story. My first contact with the Scarlet Pimpernel were the movies where Lord Tony was played by Jamie Bamber, and this is the inspiration I had for the characters.

**Warning**: _The warning is placed here for vinsmouse, who wanted a spew warning here, claiming it might be a bad idea to drink while reading the funnier parts. So please keep in mind that drinking any kind of beverage while reading this, might be hazzard'ous to the health of your screen. _

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Scarlet Pimpernel nor any of his men. I only play with them for your pleasure and mine, and I will do my best to return them in their original condition.

Sometimes You Look, But You Do Not See

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**Sometimes You Look, But You Do Not See**

Chapter 1

Lady Caroline had grown up with her father's money, she had known that her inheritance would be impressive and she knew how to make use of it. Her father was rich and old, he doted on her and had always opened his purse at her every whim. Her mother had died when she was but a child, and the old man had been left with two children, a son who would inherit his title, his land and the larger share of his fortune. He had always fancied that his daughter would be married into a position even better than the one birth had blessed her with. He was firm with his son, insisting that he learned how to handle his own affairs but he saw no need to ever do the same with his daughter. She would never run an estate, her future husband would and it was therefore more important that she knew how to carry herself like the lady she was. He had paid the best tutors to suit this purpose and he was more than satisfied with the result. She carried herself with the grace of one born to a king, and her face had the porcelain complexion of a priceless doll. Her tongue could be sharp as a blade when it suited her, but never when she spoke to her father. She was a striking figure used to only wearing the finest lace and silk, the best dresses and the most exquisite pieces of jewellery and he was never as happy as when he could show her off.

The Ball held by Sir Charles was an excellent opportunity, and he had taken her to London before it so that she could buy the best dress that Bond Street had to offer. She had returned with more than a dozen new gowns and she had spent the whole day in getting herself ready for the ball with the aid of two maids. Conversation stopped in many places as they entered the room, his daughter on his arm and his son behind him. All the young men gazed upon her and he knew they all desired her affection, but he was determined, not just any of them should have her. It would be hard to find a man worthy of such a precious lady as her.

She moved with ease around the room, her suitors following behind her all the time, and she flirted and toyed with them. She loved nothing as much as knowing that they were all at her beck and call. She had just sent one of them with a stinging remark, for even though she had found him sweet and his company enjoyable an hour ago, so fickle was her mind that she suddenly could not tolerate him near her person.

Then to her surprise she found that another young man had joined the throng around her, but he did not meekly follow in her wake as the rest did, he stepped boldly forward as only a man secure in his position would dare. No, no youth who had not yet inherited his title and his fortune would dare to be so bold. They all kept their place and so it intrigued her who would be so confident and certain of himself.

"Lady Caroline," she gazed upon him as he spoke, and bowed and for a moment she did not know who it was. Then he again raised his head and she could see his face more clearly. He stood not much more than an inch taller than she. A youth who had barely reach his full height, and not an impressive length at that. Now she knew where there had been a hint of an odd lilt to his head as he bowed, and why he had caught on her name thought it had been barely noticeable.

Raising her fan to her tiny mouth she pondered what to do with him. Lord Tony did not benefit only from his own title and fortune, that she knew to be bigger than her fathers. One had to take into account that his two closest friends were Sir Percy and Sir Andrew, both of whom had the ear of the Prince of Wales, and so did the young Lord himself if it came to that. She knew him for a halfwit who had never learned to speak properly, always stuttering and stammering. Yet one could not deny that it would be useful to have one of such position amongst her admires and it might be worth tolerating him for a while, even encouraging him for sport and fun. After all, he could not possibly have the brain to realize she was toying with his affection, and everyone knew that halfwits were too stupid in general to feel hurt when they were used. No, it was harmless fun that could not hurt anyone.

"Lord Tony," she dropped a curtsey as she would have done for any young man in a position suitable for a future husband. "I had not noticed you were here"

"I am af,fraid we were late," he stated with a small smile. "And I rue it all th,he more, knowing I missed such a beaut,tiful sight."

"You flatter me," she giggled, hiding her face behind her fan. Behind her the Honourable Thomas, a hot tempered young man who more than fancied her scowled. He did not look kindly onto the intrusion and delighted she thought it might remind him that she did not encourage him for free. It was about time he earned his position again.

"N,nay, no flattery," he smiled softly. "I speak on,nly the truth. I would not d,dare to assume, but if you had a d,dance to spare?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid I've promised away all my dances already my Lord," she stated, sounding rueful. She would not dare to dance with him, his feet were bound to be as clumsy as his mouth, and he would likely tread all over her toes, and a lady such as she was very delicate. If he trod on her but once she was still certain the bruises would last for weeks and weeks. "But if you would, I would be delighted if you would fetch me some refreshment later," she batted her eye lashes as the same time as she made him her servant for the evening.

"It w,would be my h,honour," he stated softly, bowing again and she thought it was such a waste that a man in his position had to be an idiot. His appearance was not unpleasant, if it had not been for his height. It did not do to have a gentleman so short, but his face was pleasant and his eyes she had to admit was beautiful, a very soft shade of gently sparkling blue.

Indeed he was her loyal servant the whole evening, the tiniest gesture and he would be proffering silver cups of chilled punch. For some time it was amusing and she enjoyed it. It was indeed a game she loved to play and she watched as a few other young girls cast their eyes her way. She knew that there were many of them who found his childish features pleasing and who would tolerate him for his boyish charm and his polite and gentle manner.

She saw him dancing with the Lady Constance and she smiled pleased with herself. It was a well known fact that not many young men freely offered to dance with her, for just as he would doubtlessly have trod on her toes, so would the Lady Constance now be treading on his. She had a pleasant enough face, but she was clumsy and not in control of her body. Yet it was typical that a man such as Lord Tony would dance with her. The man had no true spine she thought, he was always shy and afraid of offending and so it was with a smile on her face she watched him surrender the Lady Constance back to her father. Even from across the room she could see the tiniest hint of a limp when he moved, though he soon recovered from it.

Yet she was tiring of his company, had he been quiet she might have tolerated him but he spoke several times and she decided that he served no useful purpose at the moment.

She had never before thought twice about letting a man feel the sharpness of her tongue, and she did not hesitate now. She could see in his eyes that her words hit home, even if his face did not show it. His eyes clouded over for a moment and she was surprised, she had thought it would take much more to make him see he was no longer wanted and so she had perhaps been a little too sharp.

"As it p,pleases you, my L,lady," he bowed again and turned away from her. Within a few minutes she saw him standing with Sir Percy and Sir Andrew again, but she had no further interest in him but turned her focus back to young Thomas.

**TBC**

_**Please review, the Cricket is hungry….**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **A Scarlet Pimpernel story. My first contact with the Scarlet Pimpernel were the movies where Lord Tony was played by Jamie Bamber, and this is the inspiration I had for the characters.

**Warning**: _The warning is placed here for vinsmouse, who wanted a spew warning here, claiming it might be a bad idea to drink while reading the funnier parts. So please keep in mind that drinking any kind of beverage while reading this, might be hazzard'ous to the health of your screen. _

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Scarlet Pimpernel nor any of his men. I only play with them for your pleasure and mine, and I will do my best to return them in their original condition.

Sometimes You Look, But You Do Not See

**Chapter 2: Rescue **

Lady Caroline had always known the advantage of her father's money, but she had never though about the acts of desperation others might use to lay their hands on any small share of it. Not until she found herself forcedly dragged from her carriage and thrown across a horse by a ruffian with dirty clothes and a foul breath. She had never thought she might one day be kidnapped and though she knew her father would pay any price asked for her she still fell into hysterics.

She was thrust into a dirty cellar of a small cottage somewhere, they had tied a rag over her eyes so she did not know where. She lost track of the days as she never saw a glimmer of sunlight and her beautiful dress fell into soiled rags that hung limp around her body. She was fed but the food was old and foul, the bread and cheese mouldy and the water though fresh was served in a crude clay pitcher that looked as if it had never been washed. It was a misery that words could not describe and she could not understand why she had not been freed yet. Her captors would not speak to her, they would not tell her if the ransom would be paid no matter how she pleaded, prayed and raged. She found no comfort in her frequent fits of hysterics and soon she began to doubt she would ever be freed.

She did not know that her father had paid the ransom but the kidnapers, ever greedy, decided that if he paid it so willingly, he could be made to pay more and more. As long as they were not discovered there was no reason why they should not make increasing demands on the suffering father.

It was why Percy had called the league together, because he found it loathsome that such a thing should be allowed to occur. The father had not been able to find out where his daughter was being held, but Percy had knowledge he did not have. He had contacts and means of finding the information he wanted. It did not take him long before he found out where she was being held, and how many men could be expected to hold her. He decided that four men should be ample enough to take care of the situation. He would take Andrew, Tony and Hastings with him, but it was still vital that the girl never realized who they were.

Percy, who loved the fancy disguises saw to this with eagerness, though his men were not quite so eager. The lady had seen them all, Percy pointed out as they squatted around a meagre fire in a nearby shack. They had been there for two days, to watch and learn what they needed before they moved in. Percy had just started formulating the plan, to approach the hut unseen could not be counted on. They needed the daylight to see what they were doing, and in daylight they too would be seen, but it would be easy to make certain they were not seen as a threat. Percy pulled from a sack such rotten rags as they had often relied on.

Percy had dressed first, and he made a hideous appearance with a few boils on his face, his hands grimy and several tears in the clothes he wore. On his feet he only wore the wooden clogs of a poor farmer, the same as he gave Andrew. The two of them were soon converted into two poor farmers who had been driven from their land by ill fortune. The sort that was often found wandering the country side, hoping for someone who would let them work for food. Lord Hastings as he was younger was barefoot though dressed in much the same fashion. He wore a sling at his belt though, and had the torn and ragged remains of a hat on his head, laughing as he smeared mud on his legs and arms. Tony was undergoing much the same treatment, but Percy had decided to make him a runaway. He was the youngest of them, and he could be made to look younger still. When he hunched his shoulders and allowed his mouth to hang partially open he looked like not much more than a child. A pair of britches that was so torn it was hard to see much beside the fact that they had once been made for a much larger man added to that effect and the shirt was missing a sleeve, but the stripes remaining from the other sleeve hung down to the tip of his fingers. He too rubbed mud onto his legs to add to the grimy appearance, he rubbed crushed charcoal under his nails and allowed Andrew to ground more of the charcoal powder into his hair. Some old grease scraped from the pan into his hair had it hanging limp and grimy in his eyes. As they walked Percy and Andrew walked with the tired gait of someone who has toiled every day of his life and is not near too weary to move on. Hastings looked around himself, fingering his sling from time to time as if he yet hoped to find something that might fill the pot. Tony as a runway carried an air of one beaten into submission, one that will take flight at a startling gesture. Indeed he gave Percy a worrying glance now and again, his bare feet dragging in the dust.

They approached the shack unchallenged and Percy knocked on the door, the man who opened did not look much better than what they themselves did, and it was clearly he found them to be no threat.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"We are searching for work," told him Percy in a raspy voice. "But even shelter for the night would be a blessing, we have not had neither food nor shelter for many days now."

"Well, we have none of either, so get yourselves away from here," he scowled at them, his eyes narrowing as Percy did not leave.

"The nights are cold he pleaded, and my son is suffering for it," he motioned to Hastings who sneezed dutifully.

"I don't care if you're freezing to death," he sneered. "If you don't get yourselves away from here, I'll beat your bloody head in!"

He got no further, Percy shot out his fist and struck him a blow in the face that threw him back and into the hut. He followed in an instant with the others tight on his heels. There were four each of them, and the hut was really much too small for such a brawl, but the kidnapers were soon overpowered and they stood panting with the exertion. Hastings wiped blood from his nose, and Tony flexed the fingers of a sore hand. He had struck the man on the jaw, but it felt as if he had struck his fist against a stone. Percy, ever efficient was looking about for the means to restrain them, and Andrew was helping him. Since Hasting was holding a dirty rag to his face in an attempt to quench the blood flow from his nose, Tony found the trap door to the cellar and made his way down the narrow ladder.

His bare feet had not touched the dirt floor before he heard a loud explosion of broken crockery, and his head exploded with pain as the cause of the noise struck him a hard blow on the side of his head.

Lady Caroline had heard the fight, and fearing for her life she had gained courage enough to grab the pitcher and strike the first man who came down. Tony reeled from the blow, unsteady on his feet as his ears were ringing with the loudness of a church bell. The blow had struck his ear and his temple, and though she did not have much strength of arm she had used all her pent up fear from her captivity in the blow, and it had been a powerful blow indeed. Groping for the ladder to steady himself he was vaguely aware of blood trickling down his face and neck from the cuts the broken pitcher had given him.

Seeing her hand raised as if she was to claw his face he sized her wrist and held it away from himself, raising his other hand in front of him with the palm held upwards to her to show he meant no harm.

Percy's face appeared in the gaping hole though Tony doubted his own mother would have recognized him if she had not known.

"Lady Caroline," he smiled. "Your gallant knights are here to rescue you, please hurry, we aim to get you back safely to your father before nightfall."

"Who are you?" she demanded. "What do you mean to do to me you brute."

"Why, to rescue you," he laughed. "Come now, and you can see for yourself that those ruffians that held you are no longer doing so. Our only intention is to return you to your father."

"And doubtless you shall demand gold for it!" she snarled, but she did scale the ladder. She decided she had nothing to lose by it and a possible hope for freedom. Indeed she did recognize the men who had held her, tied up and not yet conscious they had been left in a heap. Her saviours though, did not inspire any hope in her, and though she was aware of how frightfully she herself looked she regarded them with disgust and shied away from their touch. The one she had struck came up as well, rubbing the bruise on his face though he did not speak a word against her. All he did was grasp the arm of one of the other men, before balancing on one hand to pull shards from the broken pitcher from his bare feet.

"My Lady," the one she judged to be their leader spoke again. "I fear we must ask you to walk a short distance, we have horses waiting, but we could not bring them here. Our plan depended on the element of surprise, and the deception that we were nothing more than poor homeless farmers. If you could walk just a short distance with us I will send one of my men to fetch the horses here."

"How do I know I can trust you?" she demanded.

"I give you my word, my Lady," he told her. "You will not come to any harm, and you will be safe with your father before nightfall. Now go on lad, run fetch the horses to us," he spoke to Tony who nodded and took off a fast trot. The horses had been borrowed by a farmer a few miles away, one who had aided them thus before because they could not allow the horses to be recognized as their own by anyone. He sent Tony after them because it was better if the Lady did not wonder why he was so quiet. Tony was quick, and they had already agreed where he would bring the horses so that they had to walk but a short distance. The young lady was glad to mount the horse, for she was not used to walking and even the short distance had left her sore. The men though disgustingly dirty had not spoken as much as an unkind word to her and she was beginning to believe they would indeed see her safely home. She had even begun to feel sorry for the one she had struck. She had seen that faint limp as he left them, knowing she had struck him with the pitcher, breaking it and thus leaving him injured caused her to feel somewhat guilty, but there was something else. It pocked at her memory when she watched him move, but she did not know why.

_**TBC**_

_Please review, the Cricket is hungry….._


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **A Scarlet Pimpernel story. My first contact with the Scarlet Pimpernel were the movies where Lord Tony was played by Jamie Bamber, and this is the inspiration I had for the characters.

**Warning**: _The warning is placed here for vinsmouse, who wanted a spew warning here, claiming it might be a bad idea to drink while reading the funnier parts. So please keep in mind that drinking any kind of beverage while reading this, might be hazzard'ous to the health of your screen. _

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Scarlet Pimpernel nor any of his men. I only play with them for your pleasure and mine, and I will do my best to return them in their original condition.

**Sometimes You Look, But You Do Not See**

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_**Chapter 3**_

A few hours later she knew they had kept their promise as she saw her father's house in the distance, and she wept with relief.

"I never though," she gasped. "Oh, I did not dare to believe it. You have saved me, indeed you have saved me. Oh, my father will reward you handsomely for this."

"We desire no reward," Andrew smiled softly. "Only to see such a fair lady safe again."

"But I must thank you," on impulse she grasped his hand. "I must, I owe you my life."

"It has been a pleasure to serve you," put in Percy with a wide smile. "But you owe us nothing for our service."

"But I do, oh I do," she declared. "And I do not even know your names. You must tell me, you must let me reward you in some way."

"Your smile is ample rewards enough," decided Hastings. She showed a meekness now that he found very attractive and he meant the words as he spoke them. The way she was smiling towards him was all he desired.

"But I must thank you, I simply must," and she moved between them, grasping their hands and on impulse pressing kisses of gratitude to their dirty cheeks.

She lingered for a moment before Hasting, brushing his hair with her hand, gazing into his eyes and dreaming of finding a man like him.

Moving to Tony she raised a finger tip to a cut on his cheek. "I'm terribly sorry," she told him. "I didn't know you came to save me, I thought it was one of them. I'm sorry I hurt you."

"It's perfectly understandable," assured her Percy.

"But I feel awful for it," she stated with sorrow in her voice. "Pray you bear me no ill feelings?"

"No," he knew he took a risk in speaking, for she would encounter him again many times. Yet this time he did not care, he would say his piece, remind her of something he had deemed badly needed before. "Mistakes are easy t,to make." Only a faint tremor hinted at his difficulty, and she did not quite seem to notice.

"I will never forget this," she declared.

They delivered her, but quickly brushed away her fathers attempts at showing his gratitude towards them.

"You owe us nothing," told him Percy with a flourish of his hand. "The Scarlet Pimpernel sends his regards." As he stood back surprised they quickly made their way back from there. They had to return their horses, to fetch their own and to rid themselves of all the traces of their disguises. A cold bath in a stream saw them mostly clean, and the rest could wait until hot water and lye soap could be provided. Tony knew that when he returned the servants would talk about the condition he arrived in. They would likely assume he had been with his friends and had been the worse for drink. It suited him fine and he did not mind it. Percy teased him for the cuts on his face and his feet, but then insisted he came with him so that he could see to them more properly. Having walked around the dirt was now thick in the cuts and they needed better cleaning if they were not to get infected.

Hastings paid them no mind, but spoke from time to time about the Lady Caroline with a voice filled with dreams and eyes filled with the passion of young love. Andrew found it enjoyable to encourage him and queried him of his intentions.

It was a nearly a week later when they again saw her, her father had quickly decided to hold a ball to celebrate her safe return, and doted on her now more than ever. Of course they had all been invited due to their social standing, but Tony was pleased to note that Lord Hastings seemed to be in her favour. His friend was in love, he knew as much, and the Lady seemed to him a slightly more compassionate creature after her experience. She flirted with Hastings, but she did not seem to toy with him.

Indeed she had been forced to reconsider, for she could not forget the men who had saved her. Even as Hastings took her to speak with his friends she found that she did not hold them in the same contempt. She knew that Sir Percy was a silly fop and dandy, and that Sir Andrew was no better, but she had been forced to look at men a different way now. She had to admit that perhaps when you looked at them you did not see all that was there, there were hidden qualities one could only guess at. The most loathsome creature to look at could yet be as chivalrous as a knight. She found she even looked at Lord Tony in a new way, for had not one of her rescuers stuttered? He could not have been a complete fool and idiot then, or he could not have played out his part so well.

She had felt guilty for striking her young rescuer and that was when she remembered it, the only time he spoke so that she heard it. It had not been much, indeed she truly had not noticed it at first, but later she remembered it. Yet he had not struck her as an idiot, he had been confident just as the others, and she knew she owed him her life no les than the other three. Perhaps then, the same could be said for Lord Tony, that his stuttering might not automatically make him a halfwit. She wasn't certain, but she vowed to be somewhat kinder to him in the future, if for no other reason than that Hastings called him a friend.

Greeting him, her hand on Hastings arm she frowned for a moment for she just noticed a few faint scratches on Lord Tony's face. Almost healed and not very visibly, but there yet the same. At first she assumed he had tried his hand at shaving for the first time, he was far too young to be an old hand at it. Then there had been that way her rescuer had limped, and she gazed between the two men with questioning eyes. It could not be though, she could not imagine that they could possibly be her heroes, but even so, perhaps any man could be a hero if the circumstances dictated it.

She wasn't certain, she didn't dare to believe it, but again she looked at those half healed scratches, and looked upon the man on her arm in a new way….

_The End_

_Please review, the Cricket is hungry…_


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